Working Overtime
by Dotty Harrison
Summary: Pam and Cheryl find themselves in the office after hours.


**Because I love my femslash otps and hate myself, I've decided to celebrate Femslash February by writing a femslash one-shot for each day in the month of February! Enjoy part 1 of this 28 part experience, and Happy Femslash February!**

ISIS's disgruntled HR worker sat in her office, scowling at the clock on the wall that told her it was already 8pm. Each extra second she was sitting in her office meant another second of her Friday evening fading away, and by extension her weekend. Her fingers clacked on her keyboard, and soon she began talking to herself in a mocking, high-pitched voice.

"'_Fill out this paperwork, Pam! Shred Sterling's sexual harassment complaints, Pam! Stay and work late while I go home to my penthouse to try and desperately shove something up my dried up ol' cooch, Pam!'" _

When the clock on the wall read 9:30 and the last corporate email was sent, Pam let out a huge sigh. She pushed herself away from her desk with both hands, lounging backwards in her chair. Eager to start her weekend, she reached for the minifridge under her desk and pulled out a six-pack of beer, opening a can and guzzling it down in one gulp. Tossing the can behind her, Pam let out a belch that would have drawn several angry complaints from her coworkers if anyone else had been in the building. She chuckled, pleased with her burp until a small flash of color on the inside of her minifridge caught her eye. Leaning down to inspect it, Pam realized that it was a post-it note with a message written in Mallory Archer's spidery handwriting.

_Set up an appointment with an exterminator to get rid of the ants in the break room by Monday or I'm cutting your vacation time._

For a few seconds, Pam stared at the post-it in disbelief. Had Miss Archer really given her another task, and threatened to take away the time she spent away from the office bum fighting? As rage boiled inside her, Pam snatched another beer can and stormed out of her office, not stopping until she burst into Mallory Archer's office. _"'Call someone to take care of those ants, Pam!'" _She let out a sinister laugh while holding her arm out over Mallory's expensive carpeted floor. "Let's see if any exterminator in the city can take care of this, Miss Archer!" With a strength that rivaled that of Lana Kane's monster-hands, Pam squeezed her unopened beer can until it collapsed in on itself, the alcohol exploding off the top and spraying down the sides of the can and on the carpet.

"Oh-h-h-h yeeaahh," a woman's voice said with an intense shudder. "Squeeze the shit out of that aluminum!"

Pam turned from the dripping can of beer in her hand to see Cheryl Tunt standing outside in the hall, leaning on the door frame and fanning herself with one hand. "What the shit are you doing here this late?" she asked.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "My stupid _Fifty Shades of Grey _fanclub won't let me into the sex dungeon without my key card, and I left it inside my desk." Suddenly she ripped her shirt open, her buttons flying across the room as Cheryl's breasts bounced in her bra. "And I'm _sooo _glad I did."

Pam was far more confused than she was aroused by the moment. "Are you really coming on to me right now?" she asked.

Cheryl tore off the rest of her shirt. "Come on, don't tell me you've never been a _little_ interested in me!"

Pam looked over the woman who, by the loosest terms imaginable, could be called her best friend. Internally, she weighed the pros and cons of banging her. Sure, she was a smoking hot billionaire, but she was also a air-headed pyromaniac with a pet who's piss was impossible to get out of clothes. "I'm gonna pass," Pam finally said.

Cheryl pouted and crossed her arms over her shirtless chest. "But think about how pissed Miss Archer will be if she finds out we did it in her office!"

"Hey, yeah!" Pam said, her face lighting up while imagining Mallory entering the office on Monday and seeing it filled with evidence of sex. "Alright, get over here and let's get our Growler Gravy all over this carpet!"

Cheryl let out a cry of delight before crashing into Pam's large body. She relished in the other woman's strength as their bodies pressed together and their lips collided.

"Euch, you taste like office glue!" Pam complained as she pulled back, running her tongue across her teeth.

"Yeah, well you taste like cheap beer and dick!" Cheryl shot back. Unlike Pam, however, she was grinning while her eyes sparkled. "I _love it!"_

There isn't much talking for the next couple of minutes when their lips find each other again, until Cheryl pulls Pam by her blonde hair out from between her naked legs with a frustrated pout. "Ugh, knock it off with that crap and just choke me already!"

"You _did_ just see me bust open a can of beer just with my fist, right?" Pam asked while straddling Cheryl's hips and moving her hands into position around her pale neck.

"_Yeah_…" Cheryl sighed dreamily, and Pam could feel the brunette's pulse speed up underneath her wide palms. "Think you can squeeze that hard again?"

Pam let her hands answer with a powerful squeeze that made Cheryl's eyes roll into the back of her head and an expression of pure bliss blossom on her face. The smaller woman pushed her knee between Pam's thighs, rooting between her folds of skin until she found the spot that made the blonde gasp. "Jesus Christ," Pam muttered, staring down at Cheryl's ecstatic and now slightly blue face. "You're some kind of freak, Cheryl."

Cheryl somehow found the strength to grab the back of Pam's head and pull her down for another passionate kiss.

Mallory Archer slowly lowered her sunglasses as she stared at her office floor the following Monday morning. Every square foot of carpet had some manner of disgusting stain that certainly hadn't been there when she'd left the office for the weekend. Once the shock wore off, the woman angrily whipped her head around to glare at the sea of cubicles that her mindless drones were slowly filling. "Can anyone tell me what the hell happened in here?!" she bellowed. "It looks like someone spilled soup all over this floor!"

"Or maybe gravy," an unhelpful voice called out. Mallory turned to see Pam lounging across Cheryl's desk, looking far more unwound than someone who had been made to work late on Friday. Cheryl, who was sitting behind Pam's stretched body with purple handprints enveloping her neck, let out a high, grating giggle before running her hands through Pam's hair.

Mallory stared at the revolting scene before her for several seconds before sighing and making her way back to the elevator. It was only 9am, but she was sure no one would disagree that she needed to take an early lunch.


End file.
